


The Baddest Thing

by noorakardemmomesaetre



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, F/F, F/M, Possible Dark Betty, Semi Slow Burn, Southside Serpent Jughead, Southside vs Northside, Strangers to Lovers, Truth or Dare
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-09
Updated: 2017-10-31
Packaged: 2019-01-11 01:42:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 14,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12312168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noorakardemmomesaetre/pseuds/noorakardemmomesaetre
Summary: The perfect girl-next-door reputation has preceded Betty Cooper all her life, just as the rough and angry Southside Serpent reputation has preceded Jughead Jones. Could a simple dare in a small town diner challenge everything?A/U:  Jughead Jones has been an established Southside Serpent since his sophomore year of high school. He was never friends with Archie, Betty, Kevin, Veronica or Cheryl. Betty has been an established cheerleader since their sophomore year and her best friend Veronica has been dating Cheryl since then. They are now seniors.





	1. The Dare

“Oh, really? And what’s the _baddest_ thing you’ve ever done, Betty?”

Betty’s face flushes as she glances warily at her best friend, Veronica, whose arm is slung lazily around the shoulders of her girlfriend, Cheryl. It’s a Saturday night and they had all been craving milkshakes and burgers post their late night movie binge. Betty had just been defending the fact that she was _not_ as perfect as her reputation made her out to be. She, in fact, had a dark side. Cheryl, despite Veronica nodding supportively, obviously didn’t believe her.

“I’ll tell you what’s the baddest thing I’d like to do,” Kevin giggled from his seat in the booth next to Betty, turning his gaze to the Southside Serpent that had just walked through the door.

A hush had fallen over the restaurant as the door _thump_ ed shut, a silent mixture of respect and fear filling the air. Betty fought the urge to whip her head around, instead choosing to casually glance at him over her shoulder.

Jughead Jones.

The Southside Serpent leather jacket complimented the wild dark curls he made no attempt at hiding under his signature gray crown beanie. Suspenders hung around his jeans and a motorcycle helmet was tucked under his arm. Seemingly indifferent to the situation, he glanced around the restaurant and Betty found herself sinking in her seat.

Like he would notice her anyways.

He cocked an eyebrow at the restaurant customers’ general staring, as if he were daring someone to say something to him. And with that look, chatter commenced again, the patrons’ attention back to their plates.

“Jones, the usual?” Pop Tate called out to Jughead, a soft smile on his face, never one to pass judgment. Jughead Jones may be the son of the head Southside Serpent, but Pop Tate treated him like he does everyone else. No fear. Jughead nods, walking to the booth on the other side of the restaurant, filled with serpents.

Even at Pop’s, the line between the Southside and Northside was clear.

“I have an idea,” Cheryl said, a smile dancing on her cherry red lips as Betty turned back to the table. She didn’t know why the beanie-clad boy set her on edge every time she saw him. Why she felt like she stopped breathing when he entered a room. “Let’s play truth or dare. Betty, you first.”

Betty’s eyes widen, knowing that the way Cheryl’s eyes were glistening meant nothing good for her. In fact, she wondered if she should feign a stomach ache and get the hell out of there before whatever horrible truth or dare challenge Cheryl has thought up for her ever comes to light.

But flashbacks of their earlier conversation give Betty pause. She was tired of everyone, even her best friends, writing her off as some goodie-two-shoes sweater-wearing Stepford daughter. She was so much more than that. And she wasn’t afraid of a challenge.

“Dare.” The word tumbles out of her mouth before she has time to give it any more thought and Cheryl’s smile widens. _Shit_.

“Hmmm, exactly what I wanted, but not what I expected. Surprise, surprise Betty Cooper, maybe you do have some _bad_ in you.”

Cheryl was swirling the straw of her untouched milkshake, pretending to think up a dare, as if she hadn’t brought up the game with a sole intention already in mind. “Cheryl, this is unnecessary,” Veronica says, shaking her head, but Betty is determined. Kevin is looking at her and she knows he’s riveted by the situation.

“I dare you to kiss Jughead Jones. Right now. In this diner.”

Betty feels her heart drop, her fingers curling into fists causing her nails to dig into her palms, her attempts to stop that painful habit quickly forgotten. “Cheryl, no,” Veronica snaps quickly, shaking her head and dropping her arm from behind her girlfriend, “Betty would never do something like that.”

“I know,” Cheryl smirks, kissing Veronica on the cheek before glancing back to Betty, “but a dare _is_ a dare, Betty dearest.”

Kevin looks at Betty before nonchalantly glancing behind them, towards the serpent booth. Betty follows his lead, knowing in her heart she’s not doing the dare. She would probably pass out just walking over there. Jughead was sitting next to Joaquin DeSantos, another young serpent Betty knew about, but had never spoken to. He was talking to a couple of other members that sat across from them, his hand waving about as they all laughed, including Jughead. She was surprised at how his whole body seemed to light up when he laughed, the sullen brooding that usually adorned his face absent for a few seconds.

“Tick tock.”

Cheryl was watching Betty, tapping her long red faux nails on the table impatiently. Betty took a deep breath, looking at her palms before she made the decision. She would take the dare.

And obviously regret it in the morning, but tonight, for once, she wanted to be someone other than the preppy blonde nice cheerleader. She wanted to be Betty Cooper, dark side included. She wanted to do something _bad_.

She stood, stepping out of the booth, and running her fingers through her ponytail, giving it some extra bounce.

“B?” Veronica’s voice was laced with confusion and concern as she watched her best friend turn around to face the other side of the restaurant. Cheryl was leaning forward now, her wide eyes contrasting with the smug smirk on her face. Betty glanced at Kevin and he shook his head once, as if to tell her this was a mistake.

But Betty didn’t care if it was. As much as this was about her proving she wasn’t perfect, Betty couldn’t deny the fact that she had thought about Jughead Jones’ soft lips pressing against hers, rough and urgent, more than once.

She began taking the steps towards the serpent booth, ignoring her pounding heart. _Since when was Pop’s so large?_ She felt like every step was weighted with how many eyes were watching her make her way down the row of booths.

Joaquin was the first to notice her, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow as Betty walked towards them. When Betty was only a few feet from their table, she thought about turning back.

Forgetting all about this stupid dare and running home to her warm sheets and pastel pajamas. But she was committed and almost all of the serpents had turned to look at her at this point, their faces a mixture of confusion and amusement. _Almost_ all of them.

“Betty fucking Cooper,” Jughead sighed as if her name alone exhausted him, dropping his burger on the plate and turning to look up at her, a smirk playing on his lips, “to what does the Southside owe the pleasure?”

Her face immediately betrayed the cool and collected façade she was working so hard to portray, surprise at how he knows her name blatant in the way her mouth fell open at the sound. _Why the hell had she allowed him to say anything at all?_ She should’ve just walked up, kissed him, and then ran for her life. Was she supposed to have a conversation with him now? And then kiss him? In front of an audience? This was so incredibly stupid.

But his voice sounded so rough and gravelly, his eyes a stormier shade of blue than she could have ever imagined, and the way his hands wrapped around that burger…

_For God’s sake Betty, get it together!_

“I…uh…need to talk to you,” she says, trying to make her voice sound stronger than she felt. Joaquin eyes her suspiciously, but there is a kindness behind his eyes that is making Betty feel a little more at ease.

“What could the Northside princess possibly need to talk to _me_ about?” Jughead is looking past her, at her friends and half the restaurant that is now watching them.

 _Shit._ She was just going to have to go for it, but she hadn’t accounted for the awkward angle she was going to have to kiss him at from where she stood. Her standing and him sitting in a booth. Not exactly prime for stealing a kiss.

She glances behind her, at Cheryl who is wearing a smirk that says “you know you aren’t going to do it, Betty Cooper, turn around while you still can,” at Veronica whose eyebrows are furrowed together as she takes in the scene, and at Kevin who has his hand held up in a weak thumb’s up, an encouraging smile on his face.

Betty looks back to Jughead who is now staring at her expectantly as she straightens her shoulders and steps backward, a new stroke of confidence coming from the warmth his gaze seemed to be perpetuating through her body.

_“Why don’t you come and find out?”_

Joaquin’s eyebrows shoot up as he looks between Betty and Jughead, the rest of the serpents murmuring to each other in surprise.

Jughead laughs to himself and shakes his head, sticking his tongue in his cheek. She bites her lip and takes another step back, wondering if this seduction act is doing anything for him.

Especially when his haughty attitude is doing _everything_ to the side of her that unknowingly craved this dare.

Jughead glances at Joaquin who’s smiling slightly, an impressed smile Betty thinks. His eyes fall to Betty, taking her in, crawling over every part of her body, leaving her feeling a bit exposed. Just as she’s about to cave in to perfect Betty Cooper and tell him _never mind,_ he places both hands on the booth table and stands.

 _He’s so tall…and handsome?_ she thinks as he walks towards her, shoving his hands in his pockets, and raising both eyebrows expectantly once he’s standing what feels like only inches in front of her. She can feel the heat between them and fights the urge to step back.

“Well?“ he starts to say, but Betty’s already on her tip toes, lips pressed against his.

He doesn’t kiss her back…at first. And then she feels it, his lips pressed against hers, his hand on the back of her neck. She had only meant to give him a quick peck and leave, but her arms reach up and wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to her. His taste, the way he’s gripping her waist, it’s making her want to throw him on a table right there. Show him what dark Betty is _really_ capable of. She flicks out her tongue, grazing his bottom lip, and his lips part, accepting the invitation. She feels free for the first time, standing in the middle of Pop’s, kissing one of the head snakes. She lets out a soft moan against his mouth, one she hopes only he could hear, before she hears the cheers ripping through her thoughts.

Joaquin’s eyebrows are raised, higher even than before, and a small smile plays on his lips when they break apart. Betty looks up at Jughead, taking in the way his eyes are filled with confusion and surprise.

She turns around, forcing a cheerful Betty-Cooper smile and trying to ignore the crude comments some of the serpents are making as she heads back to her friends.

She sits down, enjoying the looks of shock on Veronica and Cheryl’s faces, the proud look on Kevin’s, but she’s not listening to anything they’re saying. She touches her now slightly swollen lips, turning around to see Jughead looking straight at her from his booth. He smiles, a small _real_ smile, and winks at her before continuing his conversation with Joaquin.

There was one thing Betty knew for certain…that was _definitely_ the baddest thing she’d ever done. 


	2. The Showers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All of my feelings on fire  
> Guess I'm a bad liar...

It wasn’t that Jughead Jones had never noticed Betty Cooper before that night.

He  _definitely_  had.

They’d gone to the same high school for the past three years, there was no way he could have gone all that time without passing her in the halls, catching her eye from across the cafeteria every now and then. But while he had been earning his leather and learning the inner workings of the Serpents, she had been practicing cheer routines and becoming the school’s ideal candidate for valedictorian. 

He knew her name simply because she was one of the more popular Northsiders and because, he couldn’t lie to himself, she was  _beautiful._

But untouchable and he had bigger things to worry about like when his next meal was going to be and whether or not the Serpents were receiving their payments from “borrowers” on time.

Well, he  _had_  bigger things until she had kissed him in the middle of his favorite diner and then walked away like he wasn’t shit.

Now he couldn’t stop thinking about her…those soft lips, those bright green eyes, that damn ponytail…and it was driving himcrazy.

It was early Wednesday morning when Jughead pulled into the back of the school parking lot on his motorcycle. So early that it was still dark outside and the lot was empty, just as he had expected. The same as it always was when he arrived. Grabbing his backpack off the back of his bike, he headed towards the back doors of the school.

Breaking into Riverdale High for the first time had felt exciting and dangerous, but it now came second nature to him.

He pops open the back door and heads over to the men’s locker room, the halls eerily quiet at this hour. He had been running jobs for the Serpents since midnight and was now exhausted and in  _desperate_ need of a shower.  Setting down his backpack next to a locker at the back of the room, he slides out of his clothes, grabs his towel, and heads straight for the showers.

The hot water runs down his body, steam enveloping him as he washes away the night’s activities. Despite his attempts to keep his mind preoccupied, his thoughts wander back to Saturday night and that kiss from perfect Betty Cooper.

He had been holding back when she had kissed him, not wanting to scare her, but he had felt something more from her. The kiss was unexpected, to say the least, but  _way_ she had kissed him was what had left him truly stunned. Like she  _needed_ something from him. Something dark…

Regardless, he shook his head in disbelief, he shouldn’t have let that happen.

He shuts the water off and grabs his towel from the hook next to him, wrapping it around his lower half. Heading over to his bag, he kneels down thinking about how he really needs to figure out a better time to shower at the trailer. After running jobs for the Serpents most of the night, he couldn’t stand being around any of the gang’s members, not even his own father. Especially not his own father.

He needed time to feel like he was something,  _anything,_  other than a Serpent. 

But showering in the school’s locker room wasn’t the greatest idea either.  

As he pulls on his standard black jeans, thinking maybe he should get a gym membership to use the showers there, he hears the  _creeeeak_  of the locker room door opening. He freezes, glancing towards where the door is located behind a couple of rows of lockers. He can’t see the door but he can hear the soft  _pit pat_  of steps being taken into the locker room and the  _thump_  of the door closing.

_Had he been in the shower that long?_ He quietly grabs his watch from where he had left it at the top of his backpack and sees that it reads 6:23AM.  _What the hell?_

“I am like 110% sure that we are not supposed to be in here right now,” Jughead hears a guy say from a couple of rows away and his eyes widen. Definitely not a Southsider.

“It’s called  _‘investigative journalism’_ for a reason Kev, just look around,” he hears a soft but determined female voice and his heart pounds in response to his realization.

_Betty fucking Cooper._

Jughead’s head falls back and he sighs deeply trying to figure out how the hell he was going to get out of this situation. Maybe if he just put his clothes into his backpack  _quietly_ and then snuck around them they wouldn’t notice. 

What could they be investigating this early in the morning anyways? And in  _this_  locker room?

He leans down, scooping his clothes up in a pile when he realizes he’s still shirtless. Standing at the back of a locker room at 6:00 in the morning shirtless, wet, and alone.  _Awesome._

“Oh my God!” Jughead turns around and sees Kevin standing at the end of the row he’s in, his hand clutching his chest. The clothes fall from Jughead’s arms and he winces.

_Fuck._

“What?” Betty’s innocent question receives an answer as she walks around the corner and stops next to Kevin, her mouth falling open.

“Good morning,” Jughead says, getting his shit together and casually running his fingers through his hair, offering them one of his infamous smug smiles.

Betty’s mouth closes and, to Jughead’s surprise, her eyes travel down his half naked body slowly, a small impressed smile replacing her previously shocked expression.

He raises both eyebrows at her, shoving his hands in his pockets (thanking God he had his jeans on at least), before smirking, “ _like what you see, princess?”_

Kevin laughs nervously as Betty’s eyes snap back to Jughead’s face, shaking her head quickly.

“What are you doing here?!” she folds her arms across her chest and looks at him expectantly.

Jughead glances down at his backpack, attempting a stealth search for his t-shirt and spotting the corner of it, before he narrows his eyes at her, “this is my designated locker room, what are  _you_  doing here?”

Betty’s face flushes, but she offers no response. Kevin looks between them uneasily for a second before saying, “I’m gonna keep looking around Betty.” 

He slips into another row of lockers and Betty sighs, her arms dropping to her sides as she takes a few steps towards Jughead, her eyes drawn to his bare upper body again. He takes the opportunity to yank his black t-shirt out of his backpack and pull it over his head before she stops in front of him.

“Are you okay? Seriously, why are you showering here and not at home?” her voice is gentle and the look of concern on her face puts him on edge. 

“I like showering here because I  _enjoy the peace and quiet._ No one is ever around this early so, like i asked before, why are  _you_  here exactly?”

Her face flushes again and he hates himself for loving the way she looks when her cheeks are pink from something he’s said. She looks towards the noises Kevin is making as he attempts to open a few clearly locked lockers. “I’m researching an article for the Blue and Gold.”

“Oh really?” Jughead asks, as if lurking around a locker room at 6:00am for an article in the  _school_ newspaper is totally normal, “why can’t your boyfriend just show you the lockers after football practice, or whatever?” 

Her eyebrows raise in response and he sticks his tongue in his cheek, irritated at himself for using some bullshit roundabout way to ask her if she has a boyfriend. It doesn’t matter either way, she would never lower herself to be with a Serpent and he’d probably ruin her if she did. 

“Do you really think I’m the type of girl who would kiss you in the middle of a diner if I had a  _boyfriend_?” her voice is stronger now and she steps closer to him, her eyes searching his. 

“I don’t know what type of girl you are, Betty,” he offers lazily as he leans down to pick up his unzipped bag and slings it over his shoulder, before adding, “why would you kiss me in the middle of a diner  _at all?”_

Her eyes are wide and her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. Jughead fights the urge to reach over and bite that lip for her. Kevin bumps into a half open locker, making a loud bang over by the showers, reminding them that he’s still there “investigating.”

“Sorry!” he calls out, but Betty doesn’t respond, her eyes still trained on Jughead’s. 

“Well, Betty?” he asks, his voice even but impatient. 

She looks down, before finally admitting, “Because Cheryl dared me.”

Jughead laughs humorlessly, nodding and looking up at the ceiling for a second as her cheeks redden.

She’s trying to be honest, he respects that. He looks back at her, at the way she’s looking down, like she thinks she’s hurt him and she’s  _sorry._ But he’s not hurt. He’s  _amused_ that she believes that’s all that kiss was. 

He steps forward, closing what little space there is between them, before reaching out and tilting her head up with his finger under her chin. Her eyes meet his and she bites her lip again, her eyebrows furrowing slightly.

“I’m sorry Jughead…”

“I believe you,” he murmurs, cutting off her half-hearted apology. He leans in until he can feel her breath on his face, her lips only inches away from his. The soft sweet smell of vanilla wafts around him and he can almost feel her heart beating, her breaths shallow and hesitant. 

She wants him to kiss her, he knows it. He knows it because he fucking wants it too. He wants to slam her against these lockers and give her what he’d been holding back at the diner. She closes her eyes and leans in to press her lips against his just as he moves his head so his lips are almost against her ear.

“But no one moans like that during a kiss for a  _dare_ Betty Cooper _.”_  

He walks past her, waving to a frozen and wide eyed Kevin, leaving her there with the same surprised confused expression she had left him with last Saturday night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you like the direction I’ve taken this! I’m not sure how I feel about how this came out, Jughead’s perspective was a bit more difficult for me to write than I expected. But it was a lot of fun nonetheless and I hope you all enjoy! ❤


	3. The Collision

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Have you no idea that you're in deep  
> I dreamt about you nearly every night this week  
> How many secrets can you keep?  
> -Arctic Monkeys

“ _The_ Southside Serpent, Betty?! Do you have a death wish?!”

Veronica’s voice shrills in Betty’s ear and she winces as Veronica ties her hair into the standard extra-high ponytail Betty wears for Friday night football games. The girls are getting ready at Betty’s and Betty may have just implied that she was…possibly… _slightly_ attracted to Jughead Jones. 

“You should’ve seen him in the locker room last week though, V,” Kevin sighs dreamily, looking up from his phone and catching Betty’s eye in her vanity mirror, “ _I_ have a death wish after that.”

Betty bites her bottom lip, looking down at her hands as Veronica ties blue and gold ribbons in her hair. Just the mention of running into Jughead…half-naked, wet, his lips pressed against her ear…in the locker room last week makes Betty’s face flush.

 “A little help here, babe?” Veronica turns toward her girlfriend who is sitting lazily against Kevin’s legs, looking at her long now gold faux nails, already in full cheer attire for the game.

“I actually think Jughead could be good for Betty,” she shrugs, glancing up at the girls from where she sits.

Betty’s eyebrows raise as she turns around to face Cheryl, surprise etched on her face. Betty wasn’t sure Cheryl even _liked_ her half the time, let alone supported her possible feelings for the serpent.

“Really?” 

“Well, yeah,” Cheryl says, her hands dropping to her lap as she smiles sweetly at Betty, “he’s probably the only guy capable of removing the rod that’s shoved so far up your-“ 

“Cheryl!” Veronica snaps, making Cheryl laugh lightly. 

Betty rolls her eyes and sighs, turning back to the mirror to apply a soft pink lipstick. “Regardless, there’s nothing going on between Jughead and I, so can we _please_ move on?” 

“What are you so smiley about, Keller?” Cheryl asks, noting his amused expression as he types something on his phone. Kevin looks up at her, quickly locking his phone and sliding it into his pocket.

“Nothing. Are we ready to go?”

* * *

As much as Betty had put up a fight against becoming a cheerleader after being rejected from the team her freshman year, she had grown to love the sport. She was able to put any extra focus she had left over after studying, tutoring elementary school kids, and placating her insanely overzealous mother into creating and perfecting cheers. 

But tonight, she was distracted. She knew that Jughead and the Serpents wouldn’t be there; they never were. She’d once overheard Jughead refer to the Friday night football games as “absolutely detrimental to the growth of society” on a bad day and “completely cliché” on a good day. But she couldn’t help scanning the crowd as the Vixens walked out to their place on the football field, hoping to catch a glimpse of his leather, just like she had hoped (in vain) for last week.

They hadn’t seen each other much since the locker room incident. She’d seen him from across the cafeteria a couple of times, catching her eye with that same smug smile, driving her crazy. She had consistently rolled her eyes in response, always immediately turning her attention back to her plate.

He was everything she shouldn’t be interested in, but he _excited_ a part of her she had long since tried to silence. He was raw and dark and real, like no one she had ever met before. 

Her eyes drifted across the bleachers once more, a small part of her hoping that kiss in the diner had changed his mind about coming out for school festivities, but there was no sign of him nor any of the other serpents. She pushed away the feeling of disappointment settling in the pit of her stomach as she took her place in the line-up on the field.

“Hey Betty.”

Betty looked up to see a kind easy-going smile flashing at her from Archie Andrews, the quarterback of the Riverdale High football team. He was heading back towards the locker room, but had paused in front of her, his gaze lingering on her exposed legs.  

“Hey Archie, ready for the game?” she asks, ignoring Veronica watching her out of the corner of her eye. She knew Veronica wanted her to pursue Archie, that she thought they could be a “power couple” at Riverdale High.

And Betty couldn’t lie, she had considered it. He was cute. Nice. The Quarterback. But after kissing a certain serpent in a diner…Archie just seemed a little… _boring_.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ve been practicing a ton. Are you doing anything after the game?”

His voice fades as her eye catches a flash of gray leaning against the bleachers, her heart stopping in time with her mind’s instantaneous realization.

Jughead Jones, clad in his beanie and leather jacket, was leaning against the cool metal railing of the home side bleachers, one combat boot casually crossed over the other. He’s surrounded by a few other serpents, but his eyes are fixated on Betty, one eyebrow cocked at the situation he’s watching unfold in front of him at a distance.

“Betty?” Archie waves his hand in front of her line of vision playfully, “after the game? Are you going to Cheryl’s?”

A haughty, satisfied smile tugs on the corners of Jughead’s lips when he realizes she’s so focused on him Archie has to _vie_ for her attention, turning back to his friends to rejoin their conversation.   

She ignores the quickened beats of her heart, turning back to a concerned looking Archie and nodding a little _too_ enthusiastically, “I’m so sorry Archie, yes, I will be at Cheryl’s. Good luck tonight!” 

He smiles at her, his eyes lighting up at the confirmation of her going to the party. “Great, I’ll see you there then Betty!”

He jogs off to the locker room and Betty’s eyes immediately jerk back to where Jughead is leaning against the bleachers, the snake emblem on the back of his jacket facing her now, a reminder of the dangerous lifestyle he’s committed to. 

“Betty!” Veronica squeals, rushing to her side, “now _he’s_ cute.”

Saved by the start of their routine music, Betty smiles at her best friend in fake agreement and settles back into position for the beginning of their performance.

As the girls start dancing, waving their pom-poms around, Betty tries to stay focused, plastering her perfect Betty Cooper smile on. She’s attempting to maintain her normal cheer energy as she performs the moves, swinging her hips and nodding to the crowd when appropriate.

But she wants Jughead to turn around and she hates herself for it. She hates that she wants his attention, but she hates even more that he clearly doesn’t want to give it to her. Maybe Veronica was right. Maybe she should just accept that she’s meant to be with someone like Archie Andrews.

The song hits the last verse and she sees it out of the corner of her. Jughead leaning so that his back is now flat against the railing, his head casually turning to watch the Vixens. To watch _her._

She feels the heat rise to her cheeks, her adrenaline increasing as she pretends to not have seen him, swinging her hips with a little more effort. She bites her bottom lip as her body moves to the beat, her eyes nonchalantly meeting his. He holds her gaze, his eyes drifting down her body as she moves around the field, before he turns back to his friends.

The song ends and the girls hit their final pose with ease, Betty feeling elated when he looks back up and over to her. The girls all giggle, waving at the cheering crowd and hugging each other, as they get ready to jog off the field with the introduction of the football team.

“Great job ladies! Let’s grab our waters and get back out there!” Veronica smiles at the cheerleaders, giving an extra wink to Cheryl who blows her a kiss, as they head towards where the serpents are talking next to the side of the bleachers.

Jughead is listening to Joaquin and another serpent, but his eyes shift lazily to the cheerleaders as they rush past, squealing excitedly. An amused smirk quickly replaces the tense brooding expression he had been wearing when he catches Betty’s eye and she can’t help but feel empowered by his stare.    

“ _Like what you see, Southside?_ ” Betty teases as they walk past and his eyebrows raise in amusement as the Serpents laugh amongst themselves.   

“Betty!” Veronica sighs, pulling her by the arm off to where their waters are located with a couple of parent volunteers.

* * *

 A few hours later, the after party at Thornhill is in full swing. Loud dance music pounds through the walls while the only sources of light come from soft multi-colored bulbs hanging along the walls and ceilings. Betty tugs self-consciously at the short black skirt Veronica has convinced her to put on as they walk downstairs, thanking the high heavens she was sleeping at Cheryl’s tonight. Her mother would probably pass out at the sight of her dark red lipstick and loose flowing curls. Or never let her outside again. 

Cheryl glances up at them from where she’s leaning against the bottom staircase pillar, coolly talking to party guests as they enter. Her eyes roam over Veronica’s scantily clad body, smiling up at her before glancing at Betty. Eyes widening, she nods at Betty, impressed.

And, if she’s being honest with herself, Betty _does_ feel beautiful. But a wave of anxiety rushes over her as more eyes from the party start to notice how different innocent little Betty Cooper looks.  

“I’m going to get a drink,” she mutters to Veronica as Veronica’s arms wrap around Cheryl’s neck in a soft hug. Veronica smiles at her and nods, understanding her need to relax her nerves. 

Betty hasn’t spotted any of the Southside Serpents (although, much to her own annoyance, she _had_ been looking), but she decides that’s not what this night is about. She wants to live a little, have a few drinks, and dance the night away. Jughead or not, she was going to let loose tonight. 

A couple of hours later, Betty is hardcore buzzing. She knows one more beer will catapult her into being completely drunk and opts to switch to water. She had been dancing with Kevin, but he had disappeared a few minutes ago, leaving Betty to dance by herself. 

“Betty!” she turns around, too quickly, the world tilting just slightly as Archie Andrews comes into her vision.

“Hey!” she giggles, her hands landing on his forearms as she steadies herself.

He grins at her, using the excuse of the overly loud music to lean in close to her ear, whispering, “you look absolutely beautiful.”

She smiles at him in thanks, swinging to the beat (probably a bit off beat, but she was too far gone to care). 

His hand slips around her waist, pulling her flush against his body as he moves to the beat and she tries to play along, to act like dancing with Archie is a dream come true.

But it’s not and even in this state, her mind flashes back to those stormy blue eyes, that damn gray beanie, and she knows she needs to politely exit the situation.

His hand dropping smoothly to her lower back combined with the alcohol and loud music spikes her anxiety enough to come up with an excuse. 

“I’m sorry Archie, I just need to run to the bathroom,” she says quietly in his ear, sidestepping out of his grip and turning quickly to find a quieter part of the house, her breathing uneven.

_What the hell was I thinking? I just need to go to my guest room and take a hot shower. Perfect Betty Cooper is not equipped for this._

As she turns down the dark hallway she knows leads to the private guest room Cheryl had deemed Betty’s whenever she stays the night, she looks down attempting to calm her anxiety with a few counting techniques she had read about in a self-help book. 

Her body slams into a taller leaner body and the soft smell of cologne and cigarettes envelopes her like a warm blanket, calming her unease.

“Whoa,” his gruff voice contrasts with the gentle way his hands land on her shoulders, steadying her.

“Jughead,” she breathes, looking up at him as he adjusts his crown beanie, that one _damn_ curl falling into his eyes.

“Jughead Jones, here, at a party at _my_ house?” Cheryl’s voice echoes in the empty hallway, as she tugs a giggling Veronica up the staircase to the right of them, towards her bedroom, “has hell _finally_ frozen over?” 

Jughead’s hands drop from Betty’s shoulders and he rolls his eyes at Cheryl, a playful smile on his face, as he calls up to her, “Aw, Blossom, you know you’d be the _first_ to know if it had.”

Betty’s eyebrows furrow as she looks from him to Cheryl, who’s flipping him off, an _actual_  smile playing on her lips. _Did they know each other?_

“Is that Jughead with Betty?” Veronica squeals as Cheryl pulls her into her bedroom, the faint sound of a lock clicking behind them, leaving Betty and Jughead in the dark hallway. Alone.

_Shit._

“Having fun out there?” Jughead turns back to Betty, that arrogant smirk Betty is surprised isn’t permanent at this point crossing his face as he folds his arms across his chest. She feels the heat rising on her neck as she looks up at him, still only a few inches from each other, eyebrows furrowing in the dark. _Had he seen her dancing with Archie?! How long had he been here?_

A smirk plays on her own lips, the liquid relaxation she had downed earlier quickly turns to liquid courage as she narrows her eyes at him, “are you jealous?” 

“Do you want me to be?” he shoots back, his hands shoving inside his pockets.

 _Yes_. But she bites her tongue and looks down instead, trying to ignore the palpable tension between them. The bass of the music pounds against the walls of the dark hallway, an electronic disco light flashing against them at a timed rhythm, his question still hanging in the air unanswered.

“I’m actually just here looking for Joaquin, he said he was invited by one of your friends. Have you seen them around?” he sighs lazily, obviously growing impatient with her lack of a response, glancing around the hallway absently, before adding with low sarcasm, “or were you too busy dancing with _perfect_ fucking Archie Andrews?"

Betty’s mouth drops open and her hands ball into fists, in complete disbelief that he would refer to Archie in that way. Using _that_ word. The word that haunts her everyday she slips into her pressed sweaters and cropped jeans. That _and_ that he would insinuate she was too distracted by Archie to keep an eye out for her best friend…

“I haven’t seen them,” she says through gritted teeth and he nods carelessly, moving around her and heading down the hallway. 

Him just walking away _again_ slams into her like a brick wall and she feels the tears stinging the back of her eyes. She’s not sad or upset, she’s _angry._ Betty Cooper, always the girl left standing alone in the hallway crying. She blinks back her tears, shaking her head. Not tonight.   

“So that’s it?” she whirls around, heat rising to her cheeks as he stops in the middle of the hallway, her fists squeezing tighter…not enough to draw blood, but _close._

His shoulders straighten as he slowly turns around, narrowing his eyes at her, “so what’s _it?”_

“You’re going to make some off-handed comment proving how _fucking jealous_ you are and then leave?” her voice grows stronger as she walks toward him, the curse word feeling foreign but liberating on her tongue as dark Betty seeps out of her heart and through her veins like a drug.

His eyes darken as he watches her move closer to him until their bodies are inches apart, the music from the party pounding through the walls.

“Don’t act like you know me, _Betty_.”

“You know what, _Jughead_?” she says, her own voice low now, biting her bottom lip which draws his attention to it for a split second before she adds, “maybe I _should_ go dance with 'perfect Archie Andrews’ again…at least he has the _fucking balls_ to do something about his feelings for me.”

She makes to move around him, but his hand wraps around her wrist, his lips crashing against hers as he turns their bodies enough to shove her against the wall. Her hands fly to his hair, knocking his crown beanie to the ground, gripping his dark curls roughly as he slides his tongue past her lips and against her own. Any innocent Betty Cooper thoughts are quickly banished and replaced with her need to act on the darkest parts of herself with the only person she _knows_ can handle it. She moans into his mouth as his hand grips her waist hard enough to leave bruises, the pain only further igniting her need for him. His mouth breaks away from hers, his breathing quick and heated as he trails wanton kisses down to the pulse in her neck. His teeth sink into her skin, sucking and biting, marking her as she tilts her head back against the wall, her ragged moans drowned out by the loud music traveling into the hallway.

Her nails dig into his back as his knee slides between her legs, applying pressure _right_ where she needs it, allowing her to feel how hard he is through his black jeans. She uses the one hand still gripping his hair to pull him back to her mouth, deepening their kiss when she hears him groan against her mouth.

His hands slam against the wall on either side of her head, the harsh movement only making her feel that much more aroused; dark Betty clawing her way out as Betty moves to suck and bite his neck, marking him back in retaliation. It’s all hands and tongue and teeth, messy, needy, _dirty_ and Betty can’t get enough _._

“You were right,” he growls next to her ear, biting her ear lobe roughly before murmuring, “I was _fucking jealous.”_

She smirks against his neck, yanking his mouth back to hers, pulling his bottom lip between her teeth.

“Betty?!”

“Jones?!”

Jughead pulls back abruptly and Betty whimpers at the loss of his body pressed against hers, turning to face the shocked voices interrupting them from the entrance of the hallway.

Joaquin and Kevin are standing there, mouths hanging open, Joaquin’s jacket around Kevin’s shoulders, their fingers tightly intertwined.   

“DeSantos?!”

“Kevin?!”

The two _almost-but-not-quite_ couples stare at each other before Joaquin turns to Kevin and they both break into drunken giggles, “what the fuck?!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for any mistakes that were made, I edited this myself. I really love hearing from all of you, your thoughts are making this so much fun! Enjoy! ❤


	4. The Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ‘Cause I have hella feelings for you  
> I act like I don't fucking care  
> 'Cause I'm so fucking scared  
> -blackbear

“You did well tonight, son.”

FP’s hand claps down on Jughead’s shoulder as he walks by, an intended gesture of affection, but one that only serves to shoot a searing pain through his son’s new bruises.   

“How long did you give him to get us the money?” FP leans against his office desk, his hands folded casually across his knee. 

“24 hours.”

His father’s eyebrows raise and he turns to his Southside Serpent right hand, one that Jughead has met several times but only knows as ‘Crow,’ who in turn, chuckles.

“We usually give them 48 hours for an initial warning.” 

“Not when they get in as many hits as this fuck did,” Jughead spits, trying not to lift his hand to his ribcage where he knows the bruising is the worst. 

FP laughs, amused, before waving his hand in dismissal. 

Jughead trudges out of the office, not making eye contact with any of the Serpents hanging out in the Whyte Worm. Even the most volatile of the serpents know not to speak to him when he’s just completed a job.

Peeling off his clothes and throwing them in a pile the moment the trailer door slams shut, he gets into the shower. The blood sprinkled across his face and torso isn’t his own and he’s glad for it. Hot water massages his bruised body as he curses himself for not taking Joaquin with him on this job.

Northsiders always fight dirty when he comes to collect.

Throwing on his beanie, black t-shirt and jeans once he’s completely dried off, he runs his fingers through his hair and slams on his helmet. He can feel the adrenaline of the fight still coursing through his body, his mind too restless to sleep.

He straps his favorite blanket to the back of his bike, sliding into his leather, before starting the engine, knowing exactly where he needs to go to take his mind off the shit he’s done tonight. 

As he rides along the busy streets of Riverdale, he finds himself heading north, driving by his high school. His eye catches on the silver Volvo sitting in the desolate parking lot, alone.

Curiosity gets the better of him and he pulls in to the lot, next to the Volvo. He looks through the window and sees nothing but a pristinely clean car. No lanyard, no pictures, not even an empty coffee cup. Pulling the helmet off his head and strapping it to his bike, he glances around the car for any other indication of who could own it.  

When he sees the _My Daughter is an Honor Student at Riverdale High_ bumper sticker, he pulls out his phone and calls the only person he knows will help him anonymously with Northside shit. 

“Jones, you better be dying or close to it to be calling my phone.”

Her voice pierces through the calming silence of the night and he winces at the sound.  

“Blossom, what does Betty drive?” 

“Why? Are you planning to steal it?”

“Cheryl.” His voice is deadly, but she knows he’s no threat to her.

“Wow, Jones,” she sighs, and he can sense her shaking her head on the other end, “you’re so gone for her.”

“I am not gone for _anyone_ , just tell me what she drives before I hang up this fucking phone.”

“Fine, but only because you’ll owe me,” she says sweetly, and before he can mumble something along the lines of a threat, she adds, “she doesn’t drive anything other than her mom’s car. It’s some silver Volvo thing I would never be caught dead-“

Jughead ends the call before she can finish, heading towards the back doors of the school. 

He knows he should stop himself right now. Turn around, get back on his damn motorcycle, and ride as far away from the blonde and the pure destruction they would bring to each other’s lives as he can.

But Friday night has him addicted to her, the way she tastes, her laughter, her defiant green eyes, the way she teases him, how she makes him forget ~~what~~ who he is, and he can’t stop his feet from walking through the back doors of the school.

He’s never been to the ‘office’ of the Blue and Gold, though he had wanted to write for them when he first came to Riverdale High. That was before his initiation, when his writing was something he thought mattered.

He runs his fingers through his hair anxiously, adjusting his beanie, as he nears the open door to the office and peers inside. Relief floods through his body when he sees it’s only her, sitting at a desk, her head in her hands.

She looks nothing like the short skirt and red lipstick that had had his lip between her teeth only two nights ago.

Now, she sits with her hair in a loose ponytail, strands falling around her face as she looks down at several pieces of paper that are lying out in front of her. She’s biting the end of a pen thoughtfully and he hates to interrupt her process, but he _needs_ to hear her voice.  

“You know the school closed around 3:30PM…on _Friday,_ right?” he asks, casually leaning against the door frame, one boot-clad foot crossed over the other.

Her head snaps up to look at him, clearly alarmed at someone else being there. “Jughead? How did you get in here?”

He shrugs, folding his arms, hating himself for thinking about how beautiful she is, even when she looks completely overwhelmed and stressed. 

“What are you working on?” his voice is rougher than he intends it to be, but he’s slowly realizing he should’ve taken some damn Ibuprofen for his bruising. The adrenaline is wearing off, replaced by a dull throbbing ache throughout his upper body.

“Just an article I need to put out next week,” she sighs, marking a few changes on a piece of paper, “it’s a bit more difficult than I had expected. Hence, the afterhours.”

“What’s so difficult about it?”

Her eyes narrow as she looks up at him, apparent surprise that he hasn’t already left sketched on her face. “Jughead, I really don’t have time for conversation. Can’t you just go back to whatever you were doing before this? Vandalizing school property or whatever?” 

She has a hold over him and he knows it, it softens him around her, but her comment makes his eyes flash, the angry Serpent who had just given a beating coming to the forefront of his mood. 

_“Watch it, Northside.”_

She looks at him for a beat too long and tears spring to her eyes at his tone, threatening to spill onto her reddening cheeks. His anger immediately dissolves and he curses himself for letting her get under his skin like that.

“Fuck Betty, don’t cry,” he says quickly, walking into the office, dragging a chair loudly to sit in front of her. She bites her lip, tilting her head back to look at the ceiling as she blinks back the tears.

“I’m so sorry, Jughead, I’m just under a lot of pressure right now.”

He watches her, fighting the urge to reach over and wipe away her tears, to pull her to him and hold her until the only pressure she feels is from his arms around her body. He hasn’t felt the want to make anyone feel better since the last time he saw Jellybean cry.

That was 3 years ago.

“What’s going on with this article?” he attempts to distract her, his voice much softer this time as he presses his hand gently against his ribcage to soothe some of the pain. Her eyes flicker briefly to his resting hand, but she quickly looks away, not wanting to press her luck again.

“Nothing, it’s just going to expose a lot of people and although everyone has signed a release, it still might put some people at risk.”

He nods, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, before looking back at her. The circles under her eyes are dark and her shoulders are slumped as if the weight of the world is truly on her shoulders.

“Come with me,” he says suddenly, standing and extending his hand to her.

“What?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

“I want to take you somewhere, come with me.”

She scoffs, shaking her head. “No, I can’t leave, Jughead, the article-“

“Betty,” his voice is dark, almost a growl, as he utters, “trust me.”

She looks up at him for a few more seconds, clearly trying to make a decision before she stands, her hand delicately sliding into his as she follows him out of the Blue and Gold and to his motorcycle.

“I’m not getting on that thing.”

Her hand drops his and her arms cross defiantly. He laughs, rolling his eyes as he unstraps his helmet.

“Do you ever, just, _relax_?” he asks, smirking at the way her frown deepens when he makes to hand her the helmet. 

“Can’t we just take my mom’s car to wherever you’re taking me?”

He looks at her, the way her foot is tapping anxiously against the asphalt, her arms folded tight, her lip pouting.

“Betty, we’re taking my bike,” he says, ignoring her when she goes to open her mouth, “you _need_ to let go and trust me.”

His eyes are pleading and he can see her wavering in her resistance as she glances warily at the bike. She looks around, although she knows no one is around, before reaching for the helmet. 

“Fine, but only this once.” 

“Oh, I _doubt_ you’ll only be riding this once,” he winks at her and she rolls her eyes, a small smile playing on her lips as she tugs on the helmet. He’s found that his arrogance always makes her smile, or bite her lip, and Jughead can’t decide which he likes more.

As they ride further north, weaving in and out of the traffic that litters the streets even at this late hour, her hands squeeze tight against him. The pain that had shook him initially when her arms had tightened around his torso fades with the enjoyment of having her body so close to his again.

He laughs to himself when he hears her squeal excitedly with the increased speed as he takes a sharp turn. He knows she’s having fun, although she’ll never admit that to him. 

As they near the forest that surrounds Sweetwater River, Jughead slows a bit, always finding the entrance a bit challenging to see in the dark. Once he spots it, he turns onto the small dirt path, driving inland for a bit, before he stops, killing the motor.

She slides off the back of the motorcycle, taking off the helmet and smoothing her ponytail back as she looks around at the trees and greenery around them.

Jughead unstraps the blanket he had strapped to his motorcycle earlier, taking her hand and leading her through the trees and off to one side, where a small tree-enclosed meadow lay. It was clear he had been there many times before, the narrow path beaten, a section of the meadow’s grass bent where he unrolls the blanket.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Betty looking around at the tall trees, the bright stars peeking through them, listening to the sound of the river rushing in the distance. Jughead feels the peace that always accompanies this place enveloping him as he attempts to lie down.

He is now sure the bruising is worse than he had originally thought as he grips his ribcage, turning so that he lands on his back. _Fuck,_ he curses himself as he allows his body to fall, his head resting against the soft blanket, his hand dropping to his side. 

That was the last fucking time he allowed one of them a couple of free punches out of “fairness.”

Betty lies down next to him and he turns his head towards her, wishing he could unsee the deep-set concern in her eyes. 

“What is this place?” her voice is soft, barely above a whisper.

“My mom brought me here for picnics when I was a kid. I’ve been coming on my own for the past few years as a place to be alone with my thoughts, somewhere no one can find me.” 

Her wide eyes and the sharp intake of her breath tells him she’s surprised at his honesty. 

“Your mom doesn’t come out here anymore?” 

He looks up, towards where the stars are visible through the density of the trees, and shrugs, “she left a few years ago.”

Betty’s quiet at that, her head turning to look up at the trees with him. He shifts uncomfortably, wondering if he should have kept that to himself. _Why does she make me so damn honest?_

“What about you? Are your parents still around?” But he already knows the answer, perfect Betty Cooper had no family issues, he would almost bet his life on that.

“Yeah, they are,” she says, before adding quietly, “but they’re miserable. My dad is hardly at home and my mom takes all of the harsh criticisms and pressures she would usually place on him, out on me.”

Jughead’s eyebrows raise, surprised to hear that the angel next to him isn’t living the heavenly life he had thought she was. He opens his mouth to say something, but she interrupts with a whisper, “Honestly, I can’t wait to graduate and leave.”

A comfortable silence falls around them, both having shared a secret now, only interrupted by the occasional _chirp_ of the surrounding crickets and the distant rushing of the river. 

He takes a deep breath, slowly moving his hand until it bumps against hers, his heart drumming against his chest, wanting to feel close to her. He’d been with other girls here and there, but never like this. Never had he had a girl make his heart beat this hard over the possibility of _holding hands._  

“You were in a fight tonight.” Her voice is gentle, but she’s not asking, and her fingers intertwine with his as if to keep him grounded in the conversation. 

He doesn’t look at her, his eyes focused on one particularly bright star, as he responds gruffly, “yes.”

“Why?”

He sighs, turning his head to look at her, “why do you want to know?”

But he immediately recognizes the innocence in her eyes, the need for him to have fought for something good, so that she can have some sort of reasonable excuse for spending time with him.

She blinks slowly, shaking her head slightly when she notices his temper begin to flare, “what do you want me to say, Betty? That some guy was robbing a little old lady, so I beat the shit out of him? Would that make you feel better about lying here with a _serpent_?” 

His voice is harsh and he can’t stand the way she’s looking at him, like she _sees through_ him, so drops her hand and sits up, grunting at the pain.

“Why do you always have to be so defensive?” she snaps, getting up and moving so that she’s kneeling in front of him, her fingers reaching out to touch his leather, “Why do you always assume I want to erase this side of you?”

Her touch is gentle, although her eyes are hard, and he can’t help the heat that pools between them.

This is what they do, _who they are together_. They bring out the darkness in each other and then soothe it away, so that they can continue functioning in society despite their personal hells.

“What are we doing, Betts?” the nickname rolls off his tongue feeling foreign, yet familiar and her eyes widen at the sound, her hand falling back into her lap. 

“Nothing,” she shakes her head and he laughs hollowly, 

“Nothing? So, nothing when you kissed me in the diner and nothing when I had you pressed against a wall at Thornhill? We’re doing _nothing_?”

She looks at him, her eyes darkening, her lip pulled between her teeth.  

He ignores the pounding of his heart, the way her bottom lip is asking to be tugged between his own teeth, her hand itching to rip his beanie off and pull his mouth to hers.

“I think you like pissing me off, pushing me to this point,” he growls, just above a whisper, as his eyes linger on hers before they travel down to where her pastel buttoned down blouse exposes a feint mark he had left on her only a couple of nights ago, “because you know I’m the only one who can handle whatever fucked up shit you need to work through.”

She turns away from him quickly, shaking her head, “I don’t have anything I need to _work through_ , Jughead.” 

“Oh, okay,” he nods disbelievingly, staring at the way her cheeks are burning, before pulling on the collar of his t-shirt, exposing the deep bite marks she had left on his collar bone, “then what the hell are these?”

Her eyes flash as she takes in what she’d done to him the last time they were together and he can tell she wants him, that seeing how she had marked him is making her thighs squeeze together.

“Come on perfect little Betty Cooper, I can see how much you need this,” his voice is dark as he shrugs off his jacket, the pain from his bruises subsiding as he looks back into her eyes, smirking, “ _give it to me.”_

Her lips crash against his and he feels her fingers knot in his hair as his beanie falls, her lips parting as his tongue slips against hers, more familiar now. She moves to straddle him, yanking his head to one side so that she can suck and bite the barely fading marks she had left only a couple of nights ago. He groans, his fingers slipping under her buttoned-down blouse, waiting for her consent and receiving it quickly when she nods, leaving a trail of kisses and bites back up to his mouth as he rips the shirt open, a few buttons popping off and rolling on to the blanket.

His fingers drag lightly up her exposed torso causing her to shiver, until he reaches her bra, teasing the skin under the underwire before his fingers dip beneath the cotton. She pulls back, shimmying out of her unbuttoned blouse and unhooking her bra, allowing it to drop beside them. 

His eyes travel down her body, taking her in. The most radiant beauty he’d ever seen, sprawled across his lap, half naked, _for him._

“Fuck,” he murmurs before she grinds against him, reaching for the hem of his shirt as she takes his lip between her teeth. He stills her hand with one of his, the other thumb reaching to rub roughly against her dusty peak. She moans against his mouth, pushing his hand away from hers and reaching for the hem of his shirt again.

“Betty,” he warns, as she deepens the kiss, his hand wrapping around her wrist firmly. 

She yanks her wrist from his hand and pulls away from his heated kisses, lifting the hem of his shirt before he can say anything else.

He grimaces as she gasps softly, pulling the shirt off carefully, her face twisting into a mixture of pain and remorse.

His fingers rest against her hips, trying to catch his breath as he watches her take in the deep purple bruises that are painted across his shoulder and ribcage. He was hoping they wouldn’t be as visible as they are, but he can tell by the way her breathing has shallowed, they look _bad._  

He rubs her warm skin soothingly, attempting to bring her eyes back to his own, but she’s lost in the physical pain that lays exposed on his body.

“Jug,” she whispers, her fingers lightly running against the bruises, a look of helplessness crossing her face.

He catches her fingers in his own, kissing each of them softly, before she finally meets his eyes.

“Betty-“ he starts to say, but she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling herself flush against his body, her tears splashing silently on his shoulder as she hugs him. They sit like that, half naked, quiet, wrapped up in each other’s arms for what feels like hours, before Betty tells him she needs to go home.

_________________________________________________

It’s nearly 2:00 in the morning when Jughead pulls back into the Riverdale High parking lot and the town feels eerily quiet as Betty slides off his bike again. He kills the engine, getting off as well, watching as she takes off the helmet, immediately smoothing down her loose fly away hairs.

She hands him back the helmet, not meeting his eyes as she holds her blouse closed, turning to walk back to her mother’s car. 

Jughead feels the pain welling inside of him, ripping him to shreds before he opens his mouth, already convinced of what needs to be done.  

“Betty,” he calls out, cursing his voice for breaking.

She doesn’t turn around, simply stops in front of the driver side door of her car. 

“We can’t…do this anymore.” 

Her fingers close into tight fists and he fights himself, biting his lip to keep himself from crying, from running after her and wrapping his arms around her. But he knows this _has to_ stop. It’s only been a couple of weeks and, as much as he hates to admit it, Cheryl’s right, he’s so gone for this girl. But a few bruises had sent her into a tailspin, she’d never survive in his world. And he would only drag her down in hers. 

She turns around, her eyes dark, her pony tail swinging lightly behind her, “really, Jughead? That’s what you want?”

He tilts his head back, knowing if he looks at her he’ll break. He throws on the helmet, turning towards the bike, before he tosses over his shoulder, “yeah, that’s what I want.”

He’s doing the right thing, letting her go, he tells himself _over and over again_ as he drives out of Northside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For those of you who have stuck with me through this journey so far, I can't say enough about how much I appreciate you and your thoughts! I have one more closing chapter planned and I promise it will be a happy ending (I owe you that much after this angst haha!), and it will include the smut that keeps getting interrupted! As always, thank you for reading! xx


	5. The Middle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> If you were by my side and we stumbled in the dark  
> I know we'd be alright, I know we would be alright  
> Baby, there's nothing holdin' me back  
> -Shawn Mendes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: there is smut in this chapter.

It had been 12 days since Jughead Jones had left Betty Cooper clenching her fists and blinking back tears in the Riverdale High parking lot.

Not that she was counting.

“Honestly B, good riddance. That guy was nothing but trouble,” Veronica sighs, ending what had been another disheartening conversation about that status of Betty and Jughead, and standing up from their table in the cafeteria. 

Cheryl sits facing Betty, her faux diamond encrusted compact open in her palm as she fixes her cherry red lip gloss. Betty’s staring at her turkey sandwich, willing her appetite to come back but failing miserably.  

Veronica shakes her head, “okay, I’m going to the powder room. When I come back, everyone needs to be in a better mood. Got it?”

As Betty watches Veronica walk through the swinging bathroom door, a silence falls over the cafeteria.

The hairs on the back of Betty’s neck stand up at the immediate recognition.

Jughead Jones.

Out of the corner of her eye, she watches him and the two serpents trailing behind him head past the food line and grab seats at a table just within her eyesight. She ignores the sinking feeling in her stomach when he continues laughing and talking to his friends, never looking in her direction.

“Hey Betty!” Archie flashes her his infamous All-American smiles as he slides onto the seat next to her. 

Cheryl shuts her compact with a loud _click!_ and arches an eyebrow at him.

“Hi Archie,” Betty offers, a small smile on her face.

“How have you been?”

“Just busy,” she responds and she hates herself for sounding so tired and disinterested as she glances around the cafeteria, willing this interaction to end. Her cheeks redden when she sees that Jughead is no longer laughing, his eyes are dark and looking just past her, towards the cafeteria exit. 

Hoping that expression is jealousy, she turns back to Archie, attempting to look a bit cheerier.   

“Archie, sweetie,” Cheryl says, quickly noting Betty’s change of expression and smiles, though her tone is cold as she tilts her head and waves her hand dismissively, “leave us.” 

Archie opens his mouth as if to argue, but the tension at the table changes his mind and he shakes his head.

“Whatever.” 

As he leaves, Cheryl glances at Veronica who has left the bathroom, but has been quickly intercepted by a few giggling Riverdale Vixens.

“How long have you known him?”

Cheryl turns back to Betty, her elbows resting on the table, chin in her hands, “about whom are you speaking?”

 “You know _about whom I am speaking.”_ Betty’s eyes are narrowed as she stares at her friend, desperate for answers. 

“Fine. Since we were little. Our dads go way back.”

“Why do you act like you don’t know each other?”

Cheryl smirks, but shrugs, “because his leather clashes with my Louboutins. It’s not that deep, Cooper.” 

Betty allows her gaze to travel back to where he’s sitting, turned now so that his back faces her. _Great,_ she sighs, looking down at the healing wounds on her palms. 

“He doesn’t think I can handle his lifestyle. I think that’s why he left.”

“And what _exactly_ have you done to show him you can?” 

Her eyebrows furrow, confused at Cheryl’s response, as she looks up to meet her eyes, “excuse me?”

“Before you kissed him at Pop's,” Cheryl challenges, holding Betty’s gaze, “when was the last time you saw the serpent prince at a football game?”

Betty is the first to break eye contact, shaking her head, “never.” 

“And when, before you kissed him at Pop's, has Jughead Jones ever come out to a party at Thornhill?” Cheryl asks slowly, before continuing, “I’ll answer that for you. _Never.”_  

Betty’s eyebrows are still furrowed, trying to figure out the point Cheryl’s trying to make. 

“And, before you kissed him in a diner, when has he ever set foot in the Blue and Gold?” Cheryl leans back, sliding her compact off the table and into her purse as she notices Veronica heading back to them, “what I’m trying to make you understand, Betty, albeit painfully, is that he has come to the Northside for you _every_ time. If you want to show him you can handle his lifestyle, maybe you need to meet him on his own turf.” 

Betty’s eyes widen in understanding, her heart beginning to pound as she realizes the depth of that suggestion. As Veronica leans down to give her girlfriend a quick kiss, Jughead and his fellow serpents head out of the cafeteria.

As he's about to pass their table, he shoves his hands inside of his leather jacket, letting his gaze wander around the cafeteria. His eyes meet hers for a brief second and she forgets how to breathe until he moves past her clearly unaffected and pushes through the exit doors. 

* * *

Betty stares at herself in her full length mirror later that night, ignoring the anxiety flowing through her veins. 

She’s almost unrecognizable in her tight black skirt, heels, lacy bustier, and short black wig. She dabs on the dark red lipstick Cheryl had convinced her to buy and takes a deep breath.

“You want this Betty Cooper,” she says out loud, reminding herself and trying to ease her nerves as she tugs on the tight skirt, “more than you’ve ever wanted anything.”

She nods in satisfaction at her ensemble before she grabs her coat and heads downstairs, grateful that her parents fell asleep a couple of hours ago.

She sneaks into her mother’s Volvo and heads to the one place she is sure he will be, the Whyte Worm.

As the familiarity of the Northside transitions into the uncertainty of the Southside, Betty glances uneasily at her GPS. This is stupid, she knows. But she also knows she’s not willing to let this go. To let _him_ go.

She pulls onto the gravel parking lot of the Whyte Worm and glances at the clock. 11:45PM on a Thursday night. It’s not necessarily crowded, but there are a few motorcycles parked out front. She takes a deep breath and steps out of the vehicle, her heel _crunching_ loudly against the gravel. 

The Whyte Worm is dark and the accompanying stench of cigarette smoke and whiskey overwhelms Betty’s senses. She ignores the stares from the older Serpents at the bar, some eyeing her long legs peeking out under her coat with a little more than curiosity.

“Excuse me,” she calls at the bartender’s back as soon as she reaches the opposite end of the bar, willing herself not to immediately turn around and make a run for it.

The man turns, eyebrows raised, as he sets down the glass of aged scotch he had been sipping on.

“Yes?” his voice is dark, but not menacing and Betty nods. 

“I’m looking for Jughead Jones. Is he here?”

The man turns to another bartender who’s cleaning a glass at the other end of the bar. Their eyes meet briefly, an unspoken conversation occurring quickly, before the bartender Betty’s speaking to calls out, “Hey, FP! Is Jug on a job tonight?”

The man referred to as “FP” raises an eyebrow and glances at Betty before responding roughly, “who’s asking?”

“Northsider.”

Betty sighs inwardly. Even with the make-over, she still can’t escape that _damn_ Northside title.

FP sets down the glass and tosses the towel he was using over his shoulder, heading over to the side of the bar Betty is leaning against. She stills her beating heart when she sees his eyes. 

A familiar striking blue. 

“Thanks Crow, but I’ve got this from here. You got a name?” his arms cross as he dismisses Crow, turning to face Betty head on. 

“Betty Cooper,” she answers honestly, cursing her voice for breaking. The bar is silent except for the soft rock playing through the speakers, all of the serpents fixated on the situation unfolding at the end of the bar.

What Betty thinks is recognition flashes across his face, softening his expression, but only for a second. 

“I’m sorry Betty, I’m afraid I can’t tell you where he is,” he finally says and Betty fights the urge to rip her wig off and burst into tears of frustration. Her anxiety is high, nerves are shot, and she’s feeling more and more reckless the longer she stands there.

“But let me grab you a glass of water for the trouble you went through to come out here.”

He turns around to grab the drink and Betty pulls out her phone to see if she has any texts, emails, _any_ sort of distraction from the current situation she’s in. 

He sets a napkin down with a glass of water next to it and offers her a nod, before heading back to the other side of the bar where the rest of his fellow serpents have gathered.

Betty picks up the glass taking a sip before she sees it out of the corner of her eye.

An address. Written in tiny almost illegible black letters across the top of the napkin. She slams the glass down, shoving the napkin in her coat pocket before smiling gratefully to FP and walking quickly back to her Volvo.

Punching in the address, Betty notes that the address is located in a trailer park. Jughead’s trailer?

 _Shit_ , she thinks to herself, _this is pretty crazy, even for me..._

But she pulls in front of the trailer not even five minutes later, wringing her hands together nervously. She hadn’t even thought of what to say. Was she supposed to seduce him?! No, they definitely needed to talk. But what was she supposed to start with?! Hi Jughead, sorry I freaked out about the bruises, but you’re right, I am totally fucked up too? No, definitely not.

She stares at the trailer, noting the flashing blue and white lights through the blinds signaling that his television is on.

She heads up the ramp leading to his front door, taking a few deep breaths, before knocking loudly. Her heart is pounding rapidly and she tightens her black coat around herself as if to keep it from beating out of her chest.

But there’s no movement from inside of the trailer and Betty clenches her fist, raising it to the door again, knocking louder this time. 

What sounds like a can falling to the ground interrupts the silence of the night and Betty steps back nervously as the door swings open.

Jughead is standing there in plaid pajama pants and no shirt. His hair is wild from sleep, curls falling into the eyes he’s rubbing, before he realizes who it is. 

“Betty?” his voice is hoarse, exhausted, and Betty bites her lip. She’s trying to avert her eyes from his half naked body, the bruises that once littered his skin now faded and almost undistinguishable, but she can’t help stealing a glance. 

He steps out of the trailer, folding his arms across his chest and glancing around the dark park suspiciously.

“What is this? Are you here by yourself?”

Betty nods, folding her own arms across her chest, willing herself to say something. _Anything._

 _Come on, Betty._  

“Fuck,” he says, running his fingers through his hair and shaking his head, “how did you find me?”

She ignores the question, rubbing her arms, “can you please let me in? It’s freezing out here.” 

His eyes travel the length of her body and she can’t help feeling a little satisfied at his curiosity, before he steps to the side and lazily motions for her to come in. He shuts the door behind her and watches as she takes in his trailer. 

The trailer is mostly bare with only a small couch, a coffee table, and a television that is currently playing a rerun of a television show Betty doesn’t recognize. His serpent jacket is thrown casually across the arm of the couch, a small reminder of why she’s here. 

“Betty,” his voice interrupts her thoughts and she turns around to face him, still standing in front of the door, arms crossed, “I’m sorry, but can I help you with something?”

It’s now or never and Betty knows it.

“Yes, actually,” she says, her voice growing stronger as she forces her nerves to take a backseat, “how have you been?”

 “How have I been?” he repeats, laughing lightly and shaking his head in disbelief, “I’ve been _fine_.”

“Oh, really?” she says, nodding her head in faux acceptance, glancing around the trailer, “that’s not what I’ve heard.”

She’s lying, she hasn’t heard anything and it’s driven her crazy for the past 12 days, but he takes the bait.

“I’m telling you I’ve been _fine,_ Betty, what the hell is this?”

 “Well, I haven’t been fine,” she says softly, dropping her arms in surrender, her voice dropping to a whisper as she says, “I’ve missed you.”

His eyes don’t leave hers, as if he’s waiting for her to backtrack on her statement, but when she doesn’t his own arms drop and he steps forward. 

That’s when she sees it, the way the circles under his eyes have grown darker since their last meeting, the way his toned body looks thinner, as if he hasn’t been eating.

“You can’t come to the Southside by yourself, it’s too dangerous,” he finally mutters, walking past her to grab the black t shirt off the couch, sliding it over his body quickly. 

“If you can handle Thornhill for me, I can handle the Southside for you.” 

“I didn’t go to Thornhill for you, I was there for Joaquin-“

“Stop lying,” Betty scoffs, taking a step towards him as he runs his fingers through his hair, glancing around the trailer for his beanie in attempt to avoid meeting her eyes. 

“You came to that football game _for me._ To Thornhill _for me._ To the Blue and Gold _for me-“_

“Alright!” Jughead interrupts, taking a step away from her and holding his hands up in surrender, “but that was before. This is over now. And I honestly can’t figure out why the _fuck_ you’re here.”

“You’re so afraid,” she says darkly and his eyes flash at the sound, “you’re so _afraid_ to feel anything. For me. For what we could be.”

He looks down and sighs, shoving his hands in his pajama pants pockets, and it’s the most vulnerable Betty has ever seen him.   

“I can’t let you into this lifestyle. I don’t even want to be a part of it, and I would never forgive myself if I dragged you into this with me,” his voice is soft but it holds its rough edge and Betty bites her lip, her fingers shaking slightly as she raises them to the buckle on her coat. 

“I _want_ to be a part of it, Jughead,” she says, pulling the release on the buckle and letting the coat fall open, sliding down her arms and falling to the floor as she whispers, “if you can handle my life, I can handle yours."

He looks up and his eyes darken at the sight of Betty Cooper, standing in the middle of his trailer in the most provocative outfit he’s ever seen. 

He bites his lip and a mischievous smile crosses his face as he steps forward, “did Betty fucking Cooper come all the way to the Southside to _seduce_ me?” 

Betty’s cheeks burn, but she can’t help but giggle a little at the situation, “that may or may not have been my intention.” 

He nods, closing the space between them as he takes her chin gently in his hand, his lips only inches from hers. 

“So, you really want to give this a real shot then?” his voice is quiet and there’s an innocence laced in his question, as if he still isn’t convinced that she really wants this. _Him._

“I do.” 

“You understand that I will do _anything_ to protect you from this part of my life? To keep you away from this?”

“Yes…I understand.”

“You really want to be Jughead Jones’ girlfriend?”

Her breath hitches when she hears that, a smile tugging on her lips as she whispers, “I do.” 

His lips press against hers and she immediately feels a familiar warmth rush through her body, her lips parting as his tongue swipes her bottom lip. Her fingers reach for the hem of his shirt and he allows her to peel it off of him without hesitation this time, her nails trailing down his taut stomach as his hand slides behind her neck, deepening their kiss.

He moans softly against her mouth before pulling away abruptly, shaking his head. 

“I can’t. Not like this.”

She tries to even her breathing and still her pounding heart, confusion and frustration flashing across her face.

“I want _you_ , Betty Cooper, not whatever this is,” he whispers against her ear, tugging gently on the wig. She giggles, relief washing over her as she sighs, pulling the wig off and dropping it on the couch. She tugs the pins from her bun, letting her natural blonde hair fall in soft, messy waves around her face. 

“Beautiful,” he murmurs, catching her lips with his own as he reaches below her backside and lifts her. Her legs wrap around his torso and he carries her to his room, slamming the door shut with a swift kick.

She drops to the bed, hungrily pulling him on top of her, his hands in her hair as their kiss becomes desperate. He pulls her hair roughly to one side, biting and sucking on the now exposed sensitive curve of her neck, causing her to whimper and dig her nails into his back.

“Off,” his voice is gruff as he sits up on his heels, motioning to her bustier. She quickly reaches around to unhook it, her eyes darkening as she pulls her lip between her teeth in the only way she knows drives him wild.

The bustier falls to the ground as he tugs her skirt off, kissing back up the inside of her thighs softly, his tongue dragging a small wet trail as she lets her legs fall open to him. 

“Jughead,” she whispers, her hands finding his hair and gripping as he kisses her over her black lace panties.

 “You are _fucking_ angelic,” he says roughly between breaths as his hands fall to the bed on either side of her hips and he looks up at her, “now beg for it, babe.”

“Please, Jughead,” she whimpers, tugging on his hair gently.

He shakes his head, refusing to continue, “I said _beg_.”

But Betty’s eyes flash at the challenge, yanking his head down by his hair, “and I said _please.”_

He grabs her wrist and pulls her hand off of his hair, gripping it tightly as he raises an eyebrow and smiles playfully, impressed, “that’s my girl.” 

His teeth are clasped around the band of her panties before she has time to respond, yanking them down before pressing his tongue against her clit and swirling it with enough pressure to make her gasp in surprise. Her hands cling to his sheet as she arches her back, his tongue dipping inside of her as his thumb replaces the pressure on her clit.

She’s never experienced anything like this and she can’t help how quickly his tongue unravels her, panting his name as he licks up her orgasm, and then kisses his way up her stomach, pausing to suck and bite on her nipples, careful to give each one the attention they deserve.

“Jughead,” she breathes, and he grins, finally bringing his lips back to hers. She feels _so_ sexy and empowered tasting herself on his tongue.

“I need to be inside you _now_ , baby,” he whispers roughly against her ear as he bites her earlobe and she can feel how hard he is against her inner thighs. 

He pulls away, trying to catch his breath as he meets her eyes, waiting for her response.

“I’m yours, Jughead,” she whispers, giving consent with both her words and her heart. He kisses her deeply, before reaching for the drawer next to his bed. 

She stills his hand, smiling shyly, “I’m clean and on the pill…”

He raises an eyebrow before biting his lip and nodding, “I’m clean too.”

He presses his lips back to hers, their tongues meeting in a hot mess of emotion and trust, as his hand reaches for her waist, fingers digging into her delicate skin. 

She wraps her legs around his waist as he aligns himself, sighing against her kisses before he pulls away, only an inch from her face, saying more with the way he’s looking at her than he ever could with his words, and slides inside of her.

She gasps, trying to accustom her body to his length, and he stills for only a second before she bucks against him.

“Come on, Jughead,” she teases, panting slightly and biting his lip, “ _give it to me.”_  

And he doesn’t need to be told twice, rocking into her roughly and kissing his way back up to her face as she moans in response, her nails digging into his back.

She can feel herself tightening around him as his thumb finds its way back to her clit, rubbing wet circles against it as he slides in and out of her steadily, again and _again._

His name tumbles from her mouth in a gasp as her eyes squeeze shut, her fingers gripping his hair as he continues his rhythm relentlessly, the orgasm pulsating through her as their lips crash together.

He groans against her lips quickly after, his own orgasm ripping through his body, his hand sliding from her clit and gripping her hip instead as her name slips hoarsely from his own lips. 

He remains inside of her as they catch their breath and she reaches up to brush a curl out of his eyes. He kisses her softly before kissing her forehead and gently rolling off of her.

“Fuck,” he says softly, running his fingers through his hair and turning to face her, a big smile on his face as his breathing calms. 

“What?” she smiles back at him, feeling happier and more relaxed than she ever has, her own breathing slowing. 

“That was incredible, but honestly,” he says, reaching down to intertwine his fingers in hers, “I just can’t believe I’m actually Betty Cooper’s boyfriend.” 

She giggles, squeezing his hand and leaning over to kiss him softly. 

* * *

_**Epilogue – Six Months Later…** _

“Alright, _Southside,”_ Veronica giggles, leaning forward and narrowing her eyes at Jughead, “what’s the _baddest_ thing you’ve ever done?”

Cheryl is sitting next to Veronica in a familiar booth at Pop’s diner, running her fingers affectionately in small, soothing circles on Veronica’s lower back. She smiles at Jughead, a genuine smile while he rubs his chin thoughtfully.

His arm is casually slung across Betty’s shoulders on the other side of the booth and Betty looks up at him, waiting for his response while she takes a sip of her strawberry milkshake. 

“Honestly, despite all of the bad shit I’ve done, I’d have to say,” he says finally, turning to smile at Betty, “falling in love with a Northsider.” 

“Here, here!” Joaquin grins, from the booth behind Jughead, raising his milkshake to clink glasses with Jughead’s in agreement. His other hand is intertwined with Kevin’s, who turns to share a knowing smile with Betty. 

“Cheesy,” Cheryl teases, rolling her eyes at the boys. 

“What about you, Betts?” Jughead asks, kissing the top of her head, before he leans back against the booth to hear her answer.

Betty smirks, sharing a playful look with Cheryl before shrugging, “Hmm…a couple of months ago a good friend of mine dared me to kiss a serpent in a diner…”

_The End._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi babes! So, the Baddest Thing was my first fan fiction attempt and all of your responses were absolutely mind blowing for me. I appreciate every comment, kudos, mention, everything means the world to me and I cannot thank you enough. I have made some good friends from doing this and it has brought so much happiness to my life. 
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the ride. This has been my baby for a month or so now and I love you all for sticking with it until the end! ❤


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